


Baby You're The One

by tonkssweeney



Series: My Reason For Living Is For Loving You [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Barebacking, Bathtub Sex, Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-23 19:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tonkssweeney/pseuds/tonkssweeney
Summary: Taron and Richard navigate the troubles of a long distance relationship.





	Baby You're The One

**Author's Note:**

> Brought to you by popular demand! Advanced warning: there is a fair bit of smut in this. 
> 
> Apologies for any mistakes, as this fic is un-beta'd.

The month following the Rocketman press tour flew by in an instant for Taron. When Richard wasn't working and Taron wasn't visiting his family, they spent the majority of their time together in bed, a naked mess of limbs, touching, kissing, and feeling. Sometimes they left the comfort of Richard's flat when the occasion called for it, but for the most part they spent their days glued to one another as if it was the only thing keeping them alive.

  
It was truly a miracle that no one had caught wind of their hush-hush relationship; not even the paps had exposed them on their weekly runs to the nearby Argos. It was weird for Taron to live in such secrecy when he was genuinely a _wear your heart on your sleeve_ type of bloke. What made it even more of a challenge for him was how much he loved Richard, and he wanted desperately to share that love out in the open. In fact, he was teetering on the edge of shouting it from the rooftop of Richard's flat because he really didn't think he could hold in his feelings much longer.

  
Richard swung open the door to the refrigerator and huffed perilously. "I'm not too sure we can survive on..." he paused to crouch down and look further into the fridge, "...brie cheese, raw carrots, and a carton of milk."

  
"That's bloody disgusting," Taron laughed, his nose scrunched up in disgust. "I suppose that means we'll have to go shopping, then. So I guess I'd better go put on some trousers, eh?"

  
Richard closed the refrigerator door and turned to eye Taron, who was sitting at the kitchen island clad only in hunter green briefs. The thought of Taron getting dressed made him grunt. "I suppose so. Such a shame, though." Within three paces he was in front of Taron, settling between his parted knees, snogging him deeply.

  
Taron exhaled a dreamy sigh. After all this time he was still completely smitten over Richard. It was quite pathetic how he would do anything for the man in front of him, literally _anything_ to keep him safe and happy. "You better stop snogging me or we're going to end up starving to death," he mumbled.

  
Richard smacked the side of Taron's arse. "Yer right. Go get dressed, and I'll meet ye at the car."

  
As Taron sifted through his limited selection of clothes, mumbling to himself about really needing to do laundry, he managed to find a clean black tee shirt and a pair of dark denim trousers to change into. He slipped on a pair of wire frame sunnies and grabbed the keys to the flat before heading downstairs towards the car.

  
He climbed into the passenger side and pressed a kiss to Richard's bearded cheek. Richard looked handsome as usual wearing all black, including a pair of sunnies, his hair a mess of perfect brown and gray waves. "Honestly, I don't know how I'm supposed to keep my hands off you when we're out in public. I mean, look at you! You make it rather difficult for me, Dickie. It's simply unfair."

  
Richard chuckled as he revved the engine of his Jaguar, eyebrows wiggling as he did so. "Who says ye have to keep your hands off of me _right now_?"

  
Taron looked at Richard slyly, amused by the assertiveness that Richard was displaying. Most often it was the other way around, but Taron wasn't going to complain about this one bit. "Oi, you're in a naughty mood today, aren't you?"

  
"Just feeling a bit cheeky, s'all."

  
The playful conversation didn't deter Taron from leaning over to kiss Richard's pale neck as he backed out of the drive. He smelt musty, like a mix of sweat and sex from their rendezvous earlier that morning, coupled with a hint of floral laundry detergent. Taron couldn't help but lick a trail along the bulging vein in his neck, turned on by the smell and the taste of him. Richard was cooing softly, his line of vision never leaving the road in front of him. It made Taron wonder how experienced he was at getting ravaged while driving, but he quickly pushed those thoughts out of his mind. No sense in getting jealous over old flames when he was right there in front of him, obviously wanting him.

  
Richard reached for Taron's hand and slid it over his thigh till it met the bulge in his tight, black jeans. Taron grunted softly at the insinuation; he'd never done anything like this before, never something so _risky_ and _public_. Despite the risks of getting caught - what a sight it would be for all the paps, Taron thought - the moment he cupped Richard's hard on through his denim, he'd stopped caring. He carefully unzipped the material and peeled it back enough to be able to reach in and pull Richard's impressive cock out of it's cotton confines. Taron could feel himself instantly salivate at the sight of it in some sort of erotic Pavlovic reaction.

  
When he began to stroke Richard slowly and tentatively, he heard him draw in a sharp breath. "This is so bloody hot, T," he whispered. "I love ye so much."

  
Those words sent Taron into a tizzy every time he'd heard them, and when Richard stopped at the next red light he attacked his lips, kissing him hard and wantonly. "I love you too," he mumbled, not daring to break contact with Richard's mouth until the moment the traffic light turned green.

  
They weren't far from their destination, but Taron could tell by the generous amount of precome spilling from the tip of Richard's cock that he wasn't going to last long anyway. When the car began motion again, Taron settled down onto the front seat, propping himself up on his elbows. He lapped at the sensitive, pulsating tip, moaning at the familiar salty taste, before taking him swiftly into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks, expertly taking in each inch until he felt Richard hit the back of his throat. Over time, Taron had improved his skill of giving head, learning exactly what to do in order to accommodate Richard length, and learning exactly what he could do to make him come hard.

  
"Fuck, oh fuck, T," Richard moaned, not shy in the least. His moans rang like church bells in Taron's ears, so sanctified and beautiful. Taron had to admire how still Richard's hips were, how he kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of his head. Richard Madden was a man with many talents, and one of those talents seemed to be professional driving skills while receiving mind blowing head at the same time.

  
Taron worked Richard hard, his head bobbing up and down at a speedy pace, his tongue flattening against the underside and then the head of his dick. He palmed Richard's balls through the rough fabric of his trousers, wishing he had the opportunity to strip him naked and have his way with him fully, but knowing it would have to wait till later. He felt the car still and Richard put it into Park, and he couldn't help but smirk up at the older man. Richard's mouth was ajar, his tongue mindlessly darting out across his bottom lip in a way that made Taron's cock twitch, and he couldn't hide his hungry moans. Richard looked so exquisite with his chiseled jaw and soft pale skin, looking much like a sculpture that belonged in a museum.

  
Richard adjusted his chair so that he could lean back more, giving Taron a few additional inches of access. Both hands gripped the back of Taron's head, tugging at whatever hair he could find purchase with, guiding Taron further onto his cock. Taron choked and pulled up, only to plunge back down, taking him in until the tip of his nose touched the front of his briefs.

  
"Taron," Richard purred, his accent thick and dripping with lust. "I'm so- Oh God, I'm coming." Taron moved quickly to grab the base of Richard's cock, squeezing it as Richard came hard in his mouth, ropes of come hitting the back of his throat, a rogue droplet escaping out of the side of his mouth. Taron moaned and washed away every bit he could with his tongue, and before he could tuck Richard back into his jeans he had him by the face, yanking him up with enough force to draw a chirp from Taron's mouth. Richard kissed him hard and passionately, his own tongue licking away the smear of come on the side of Taron's mouth.

  
Taron grunted and regretfully pulled away just enough to press their foreheads together, panting to try to regain enough oxygen to feel his limbs again; Richard had almost snogged the life out of him. "Fuck, Dickie," he chuckled softly, finally opening his eyes to meet Richard's. "That was..."

  
"Trans-fucking-cendent," Richard finished, and then preceded to tuck himself back into his jeans.

  
Taron giggled and sat back in his seat so that he could adjust the aching erection in his trousers, doing the best he could to secure it under his waistband. "We better make this trip quick, otherwise I reckon my balls will fall off."

  
"Right," he laughed, nodding. "C'mon then." Richard slid out of the car and waited for Taron before setting the alarm. As they walked together towards the entrance of the shop, Taron felt the brush of their fingers together, and he wanted nothing more than to just hold Richard's hand. It felt so natural to him to touch his lover and show affection for him in every physical way possible. It was almost painful for Taron to have to hold those feelings back, and a part of him ached every time he saw gay couple on the street holding hands.

  
Richard grabbed a cart and they meandered isle to isle, loading it up with any and everything they could think of. It seems they both had the same idea to grab enough food to last them into the next month, so they could hibernate in Richard's flat until the real life called them back out. Taron went for all the snacks - Walkers crisps, Oreos, and Rekorderlig cider. Meanwhile, Richard was smart and grabbed bottles of water and various proteins and vegetables. If their shopping habits didn't highlight how different they were as people, Taron couldn't tell you what else would.

  
Half an hour later the Jag was fully stocked and they were on their way back to the flat. Richard reached for Taron's hand and held it the entire drive, his pad of his thumb lightly stroking his knuckles. It was gestures like these that made Taron feel sixteen again, his stomach full of butterflies and his heart thumping away in his chest. He wondered if there would ever come a day where Richard no longer had this effect on him.

  
The drive was comfortable and silent, save for the jazz station Richard had tuned into. "Dickie?"

  
"Hmm?" he hummed. It was a little difficult for Taron to differentiate if that was in reply to him, or in time with the music.

  
"I want to... I want to come out. I want us to come out," the words sputtered out his mouth nervously. "I mean, we don't have to make an official announcement or anything," he clarified. "I'd just like like to be able to hold your hand in public. Maybe every once in a while give you a snog." He turned to look at Richard, whose eyes were dead set on the road in front of him. His expression was unreadable and that made Taron even more nervous. "Dickie?"

  
"I heard ye, Taron," he replied. "I just dunno what to say. I don't know if that's the wisest decision for our careers right now."

  
Taron pressed further into his seat like he had been verbally slapped by Richard. "Oh c'mon Dickie, we're not Reid and Elton," he said in an attempt to try to lighten the mood. "People are already guessing that we're together, why not make it official to the world?" He overturned his hand in order to lace their fingers together. He noticed a minuscule grimace on Richard's face, and it made his heart fall right into his stomach. He knew Richard was a man who beheld his privacy but this felt different.

  
"It's not that I don't want to, Taron, I do. I want everyone to know how happy ye make me," he finally said after what Taron considered far too long of a wait. "I just don't think I'm ready for that yet. Not sure we're ready for that. We've barely been together five months."

  
Taron chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded at Richard's words. Respectfully, they made sense, but that didn't stop the whirlpool of emotions stirring inside him. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't hurt by Richard's words, that he wasn't a little angry that they were being punished for being a gay couple. Surely if they were in a heterosexual relationship, this wouldn't be an issue.

  
"Alright. You've got a point," he half-lied. It wasn't worth the argument. Not yet, at least.

  
Richard pulled his hand from Taron's so that he could turn into the drive and park the car. When they stepped out of the vehicle, Richard watched as Taron grabbed for the bags of groceries and tried his best to not make eye contact with him. "Please don't be cross with me, Taron. I know this isn't exactly what ye wanted to hear, but I think its the right choice for us right now."

  
Taron stayed quiet until he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. He put the bags of dry food inside the larder and the cold food on the kitchen counters. "I'm not getting cross with you Dickie, I promise," he explained as he reached for Richard's hands in order to pull him closer. He looped Richard's arms around his waist and wrapped his own around Richard's neck. "I won't lie, I'm fairly disappointed, but I'm not mad. I love you, you goof."

  
"Good," Richard punctuated his sentence with a kiss to Taron's lips. "Cause I dunno how I could handle ye being mad at me." He kissed him again, more firmly, and slid his hands into Taron's back pockets. "Now how's about I pay ye back for that incredible blow job ye gave me earlier, hm?" He didn't wait for a verbal response - the way Taron shivered was enough of a go ahead for him. Richard dropped to his knees and unzipped Taron's jeans in haste, leaning in to mouth at the brief clad semi-erection Taron was sporting.

  
It was hard to be upset with Richard when he looked so beautiful on his knees in front of him, Taron thought. Even if he wanted to object he was completely frozen, subjected to the way his body reacted to Richard's touch and the way his lips wrapped around him so effortlessly. Richard was a love maker, everything he did was always so slow and tender, yet somehow enough to make Taron's knees weak every single time.

  
His tongue lapped at Taron's dick, his lips curling around him just a moment later. Taron thought he was taking it slow until he felt Richard's palms round his arse and squeeze, pushing his hips forward till Taron was certain there was nothing left of him for Richard to take in.

  
No, Taron couldn't be mad at Richard. Richard belonged to him, and if the way he was unabashedly sucking Taron off indicated anything, Taron belonged to him too. If Richard needed more time, Taron could give him that, as long as those lips were his and only his.

  
Taron brushed his fingers through Richard's mane and tugged, urging his blue eyes to meet his green. "Bout to come, love," he cooed, thrusting his hips forward and watching Richard take it without a flinch. His head flung back and he moaned, his entire body trembling from head to toe as he came hard and fast in Richard's mouth.

  
Richard pressed a kiss to both of Taron's hip bones before getting back onto his feet. "Don't ever underestimate how much I love ye, okay?"

  
Taron nodded silently, still trying to regain his breath, and he watched as Richard tucked him back into his trousers and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He decided then and there that he could be patient for whenever Richard decided that he was ready to go public. He was worth the wait.

  
\---

  
Three weeks had come and gone and before Taron knew it, he and Richard were handling their business from opposite sides of the world. Taron was in Wales visiting his family and preparing to attend his sister's recital, and Richard had been in L.A. the past two weeks for work related activities. It was the longest they'd been apart in months, but it was a small feat compared to how little they used to see each other before they started dating.

  
The eight hour time difference between them wasn't too much of a hurdle; they always made time in their schedules to FaceTime with each other at least twice a day, or more if the occasion called for it. Being able to see Richard's smile and those Frank Sinatra eyes from across more than half a dozen time zones was the best gift he could ask for given their current situation.

  
Settling into bed for the night, Taron unplugged his mobile from the charger and prepared to ring Richard for their nightly chat. It was just about one o'clock in the morning in Wales and everyone else was asleep, and Taron - the devious bloke that he was - was hoping that Richard would be in the mood for phone sex. It was slightly amusing to Taron how your body gets used to having sex daily, if not multiple times a day, and then the minute you're without it you begin to have _cravings_.

  
Richard picked up on the fifth ring, and Taron immediately noticed that he didn't recognize the room he was in; it wasn't his beach condo where Richard had been staying in for the past few weeks. He also heard an indistinguishable voice in the background that he couldn't place - it wasn't his agent or his publicist. It was unusual for Richard to pick up when he was busy working, or in a room full of people. Their calls were always reserved for quiet alone time.

  
"Taron! How are ye, my love?" Richard's thick, delicious accent sent a delightful shiver down Taron's spine. He could listen to that voice all day long. "I trust yer enjoying yer family time?"

  
"Hi darling, I'm doing fine. How're-," he paused when he heard raucous male laughter in the background. "Where are you?"

  
"Sorry, it's kind of loud, innit? Hold on." Taron watched as Richard excused himself to someone off screen and went into another, much quieter room. "That's better. I'm over at a mates house right now and as ye could probably hear, he's started the party way too early."

  
"Seems that way," Taron chuckled. "Who's flat are you in? I didn't recognize it, from what I could tell."

  
"Brandon Flynn," Richard replied, his flashing his perfectly square teeth. "Ye remember him, don't ye, love?

  
Of course Taron remembered him. They'd met two years ago at some awards show after party, way before he had ever met Richard. They'd only chatted briefly but from what Taron could tell Brandon was confident, extroverted, and for lack of a better term - _sassy_.

  
Taron nodded and mindlessly scratched his bearded cheek, selfishly disappointed in the lack of privacy between them. "I do. Tell him hi for me, won't you?"

  
"I will." Richard settled into a chair and propped his mobile up on what Taron assumed was a desk, because he could see him fully from head to knee. "I see yer in bed," he spoke lowly, "But what I can't see is what yer wearing."

  
Taron could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and he grinned bashfully, biting at the inside of his bottom lip. "Nothing. I'm naked as the day I was born." He grabbed the duvet and briefly gave Richard a glance at his naked body.

  
"Mm," Richard hummed, and Taron shivered at the expression of pure lust that crossed his face, changing his entire demeanor in the blink of an eye. He even could see a bulge forming in Richard's trousers, one that he quickly tried to rub away with his palm. "Wish I was there with ye. Wanna run my tongue all over yer naked body and taste ye. Wouldn't you like that, baby?"

  
"Mhm," A dreamy sigh escaped Taron's lips as he slid his hand under the duvet and slowly tugged at his semi-hard cock. "Are you sure you can do this right now?" he asked cautiously. Richard nodded without question, easing whatever worries he had.

  
"Let me take care of ye, Taron," he whispered. "I want to make ye come. And I want to hear ye say my name as ye do it. Don't ye want that too, babe?"

  
Taron chucked quietly, the end of his laughter turning into a soft moan. He was fully hard now, his hand urgently working himself under the covers. "God, I wish I could see your naked body. Feel your naked body against mine."

  
Richard was smirking into the camera and it made Taron wank himself harder and with more persistence than he could ever remember using. He kicked his feet, using them to uncover his lower body, exposing his pulsating, aching erection to the cool air of his bedroom.

  
"My lips would go straight for yer cock," Richard stated, his tone matter-of-fact, which for some perverse reason only turned Taron on more. "I can taste ye right now on my lips. Yer fucking delicious Taron, ye know that? Just a few more days till I have that perfect cock in my mouth."

  
"Jesus," Taron laughed breathily, embarrassed at how quickly he was getting off on Richard's dirty talk and the visual of everything he'd promised to do to him. His eyelids fluttered closed briefly as he imagined the scenario that Richard was spelling out for him. When he opened his eyes again he could see Richard stroking a well pronounced bulge in his trousers.

  
"I can tell that yer close," Richard expertly pointed out, his voice resonating in Taron's ears like the purr of a kitten. "Yer face does this beautiful thing as yer about to come. Eyes half closed, cheeks flushed, bottom lip trembling-"

  
"FUCK, RICHARD," Taron cried out, coming hard all over his hand and stomach before Richard could even finish his sentence. He was panting heavily as his eyes flickered open to see Richard grinning back at him, his teeth biting at his bottom lip looking smug, confident, and beautiful. "Don't gimme that look, you brat," Taron huffed through his own grin and reached for a handful of tissues on his nightstand.

  
Richard laughed. "Sorry, I don't think I can control it. Yer bloody gorgeous, ye know that? Honestly T, I love ye so-"

  
The door to the room swung open and Brandon came into view, wearing a hot pink tank top and white shorts, looking so very L.A. "Yo Rich, you coming? We're setting up the beer pong table."

  
Taron watched as Richard turned around to speak to Brandon. "Sure. Be there in a minute." Once Brandon left again, he returned his attention to Taron, who was smirking at him with a cocked eyebrow. "What's that look for?"

  
"Beer pong? Really Dickie? Reliving those youthful years, I reckon?"

  
"Shut it," Richard mumbled, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink, his hand adjusting the semi-erection in his jeans. "I'll call ye tomorrow, okay love?"

  
Taron nodded, torn between sheer exhaustion and the disappointment of having to end their conversation. "Of course. I love you."

  
Once they'd hung up, Taron couldn't fall asleep. He couldn't stop himself from wondering if he'd just turned on Richard and then sent him to play a stupidly drunken game with his very gay, very gorgeous mate. His mind was restless as he thought over every possible scenario even though he trusted Richard completely. It wasn't like him to get jealous, but he'd never had anything before that he was worried about losing, either.

  
\---

  
Taron awoke the following morning to a dozen texts and missed calls from Jamie, Tom, and Gwen. _How very peculiar_, he thought as he opened up the first text from Tom.

**Hey man. Just checking in to see if you're alright. Saw the pap photos.**

  
"Pap photos?" Taron mumbled to himself. He hadn't seen any news alerts pop up about him on his mobile, and surely his agent would have been the first to call if something questionable came out about him.

  
**I'm here if you need a friend to talk to. xx Gwen**  
**P.S. You're much better looking than him.**

  
Taron shook his head, feeling even more confused. He clicked on the final text message, which was from Jamie.

  
**I should have known something was going on between those two when I saw Richard on the street with that blasted twink.**

  
Taron could feel his heart beating a little faster as he clicked out of the messages and pulled up his browser instead, going straight for TMZ's website. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, but clearly it was something worth a hefty amount of concern from his mates.

  
And that's when he saw it, and on the front page no less.

  
Pictures of Richard and Brandon, cozied up to one another as they walked down the streets of L.A. Brandon's arm was looped around Richard's waist and Richard's arm was draped over his shoulder, hand gripping the back of Brandon's neck in a gesture that looked far too friendly.

  
Below the main article there was a hyperlink that read: **But this isn't the first time these two have been caught cozied up to one another recently.**

  
Taron's fingers twitched as his curiosity got the better of him and he clicked the link. He should have known better - TMZ was well known for salacious gossip that typically had no factual foundation - but pictures were proof, physical evidence that Taron could see, even if he didn't yet know the context behind them.

  
The pictures kept loading. Dozens amongst dozens from the past two weeks, all of Richard and Brandon together. The headlines suggested exactly what Taron feared.

**Richard and Brandon run into fellow 'Rocketman' costar Jamie Bell and his wife Kate Mara.**

  
**Richard Madden and new flame Brandon Flynn photographed leaving a popular L.A. restaurant together.**

  
**Brandon and his new beau Richard out grocery shopping.**

  
Taron couldn't take it any more. He closed out of the browser and threw his mobile onto the floor, lucky that it was saved from destruction by the thick shag carpet as it bounced to the other side of the room. A tornado of feelings that he couldn't place was brewing inside the pit of his stomach, making him feel nauseated. It felt a little like jealousy, a little like anger, and a lot like hurt.

  
Would Richard really cheat on him? He honestly didn't think so, but those pictures were damning nonetheless. Why was Richard spending all of his spare time with Brandon? Was he even working like he claimed to be? Taron shook his head and climbed out of his bed, putting on a pair of trackies and a tee shirt before heading downstairs to the kitchen. He needed to get something in his system immediately before he threw up.

  
He decided to forgo a bowl of milk and went straight for the Cheerios, shoving a handful into his mouth, directly followed by another. A glance at the clock showed that it was eight o'clock in the morning, the time that Richard typically rang for their usual morning chat.

  
Taron, deep in thought, was suddenly started by a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he spun around quickly. "Jesus Mum, you scared me," he muttered, looking at her wide eyed with his cheeks stiff stuffed full of cereal.

  
"I'm sorry, Taron. I'm not used to seeing you down here this early. Don't you usually have your morning chat with Richard at this time?"

  
Taron's face contorted into a hard scowl and he could feel the wrinkles in his forehead becoming permanent expression lines. "Yes, but I'm skipping that today. He's been a busy bloke lately."

  
Tina looked at Taron with concern and motioned for him to sit down at the kitchen table. "Talk to your Mum. What's going on? Did you have a fight?"

  
"Not exactly," Taron mumbled as he sat at the table, still clutching to the box of Cheerios like it was his life line. "He's been hanging out with this guy who's - well, it doesn't matter who he is," he sighed. "The paps have taken quiet a few photos of them looking rather comfortable together."

  
Tina took a seat next to her son and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "Did you talk to Richard about this? Let him know your concerns?" Taron shook his head. "Don't you think you should do that before you get yourself all worked up over nothing?"

  
Taron nodded this time. She had a point, of course. "I know you're right Mum, and I will talk to him. I'm just not ready to right now. This runs a little deeper than pap photos, I'm afraid." That was all the information he was willing to offer her, at least until he finally talked to Richard.

  
Tina leaned over to kiss her son on the forehead before getting up from the table. "I'm so proud of you, Taron. You are such a good man, and so is Richard. You two will work this out. Just remember to communicate."

  
Taron offered his mother a small smile and a nod, watching her as she left the room to corral his sisters for another day of camp. It was almost nine o'clock now, and he was sure Richard was already fast asleep, so he decided to wait until their nightly phone call to confront him. The extra few hours were good anyway, because gave him plenty of time to formulate his feelings into coherent, non-confrontational words.

  
Six hours passed and Taron decided he couldn't wait any longer - he had to talk to Richard now before he exploded. The waiting made everything amplify for him, doing the exact opposite of what he had intended it to. He picked up his mobile and dialed Richard's number, knowing that it was only seven am in L.A., but praying that he was already awake. After rehearsing exactly what he was going to say about one hundred times, the minute he saw handsome Richard's face pop up, he completely forgotten every single word.

  
It was obvious that he had in fact woken Richard up. His hair was disheveled and his eyes half open, but he was smiling as he propped an extra pillow under his head. "Hi love."

"Sorry to wake you," Taron said, the tone of his voice sounding way more harsh than he had intended it to. That's when he noticed he was pacing back and forth in his bedroom, so he quickly took a seat on the edge of the bed and willed himself to calm down.

  
"Ye missed my call earlier this mornin'," Richard said, his voice raspy and still very full of sleep. If they were going to talk about this, he'd need to wake up and he needed to get there fast. "Is everythin' alright? Ye had me a tad worried."

  
"Yeah, everything's fine. Sorry to make you worry." Taron scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He couldn't stop fidgeting, the feelings inside him making him feel like a firework whose fuse had just been ignited. "Actually, no. I lied. Everything is not alright," he replied honestly. He watched as Richard turned from sleepy boyfriend to concerned boyfriend, sitting further up against the headboard of his bed.

  
"What's wrong, Taron?"

  
Taron hated the way Richard rolled the r in his name. It sounded so sultry and sexy and Taron couldn't allow himself to think about _that_ right now. "I saw the pictures."

  
"Pictures? What exactly do ye mean, Taron?"

  
"The ones of you and Brandon," he replied earnestly through gritted teeth. "You know the ones. Where you look all cozy and lovey-dovey with one another. Couldn't avoid it, really. It's all over the bloody internet." Richard chuckled as if he thought Taron was joking, and that immediately set him off. "Excuse me? What exactly is so funny, Dickie?"

  
Richard shook his head. "Oi, I assume yer talking about those ridiculous pap photos. What's funny is I can't believe ye'd think they're anything more than mates walking around."

  
Taron shot Richard an indignant look. "His arms were around you, Dickie. You were touching him. Don't you think that's a little inappropriate considering you're dating someone else?"

  
This time Richard scoffed and Taron felt like he'd been socked in the face by the sheer fact that Richard found amusement in this topic of conversation. "Taron, I love ye, but have ye seen pap photos of ye? Snogging Dex, snogging Jamie, snogging Emily, snogging bloody everyone yer on a red carpet with-"

  
"Oh BUZZ OFF, would you, Richard? That is a completely different circumstance and you know it."

  
Then they were both silent. Richard had a strong point and Taron couldn't deny it. His way of showing affection was always touching and kissing - it was always friendly, but he understood how it could be misconstrued as something more by someone who didn't really know him. The same could be said for Richard's pap photos, he then realized.

  
"Do ye not trust me, Taron?" Richard broke the silence with his perfectly sexy accent, and Taron melted into a puddle on his bed sheets.

  
"Course I do," he whispered. "Just got scared, is all. I don't want to lose you. I like of like you a bit, yunno?"

  
Richard smiled back at Taron. "Good, cause I kind of like ye too," he said. "So does this mean yer still coming to visit me on Wednesday?"

  
Taron nodded, knowing he would have came to visit Richard even if they were still fighting. Being away from Richard was like being without oxygen, and he was slowly suffocating without him. "I am. Already packed, just anxiously waiting for tomorrow. I've booked the red eye." He sighed and fell backwards onto his bed, head hitting the fluffy pillows beneath him. "I'm sorry I got a little crazy and a little jealous, Dickie. I feel like a right twit."

  
"Don't be sorry. Just get that perfect arse on a plane as soon as possible and make it up to me when ye get here." Richard was grinning wide, which was Taron's favorite of all of his smiles. He couldn't help but grin, too.

  
"Go back to sleep, and I'll see you soon, alright?

  
"Right. Night, Love."

  
\---

  
Taron was practically buzzing with excitement the minute he stepped off the plane and onto L.A. soil. He couldn't wait to see Richard, knowing that being with him would wash away all the anxieties and worries he'd been having since those pap photos came into his life.

  
Richard had a car waiting for Taron and he took that straight home to his condo in Santa Monica. He hoped that Richard would be back from work by then and at home waiting for him. Taron was so quick to exit the car and run up to the front door that there was practically a line of smoke trailing behind him. Richard's rental was in the drive and Taron couldn't stop himself from bouncing at the sight of it.

  
"Richard? I'm home love. Where are you?" Taron called out from the foyer, where he dropped his bags and toed off his shoes.

  
"In the toilet, darling. C'mere," Richard shouted back. His location made Taron chuckle but he obliged, knowing he'd follow Richard anywhere no matter what. He headed towards the master bath and nudged the door open with his foot.

  
"What's all this?" Taron asked in astonishment. The lights were dim, save for a few candles, and Richard was sitting on the edge of the tub, filling it with bubble bath. It was a sight that Taron had only ever seen in romantic movies, but he decided immediately that bath taking was his new favorite hobby.

  
"I figured ye had a long flight, so you deserved to come home and relax," Richard replied. He got to his feet and padded over to Taron, kissing him soft and slow as his hands slid under his tee shirt, pushing it up his stomach.

  
"That's very nice of you," Taron mumbled as he stood there idly letting Richard undress him, his skin prickling with goosebumps each time Richard touched him. "Will you be joining me? The tub is big enough for both of us."

  
"Love to," he confirmed, continuing to undress Taron so that he could climb into the tub.

  
The water temperature was perfect and whatever scent of bubble bath Richard had chosen was delightful. Taron watched with wide, thirsty eyes as Richard undressed in front of him, his naked form slipping into the bubbles on the opposite side of the tub. Taron chewed the inside of his bottom lip, wondering if bathtub sex could be a part of their 'relaxing' activity.

  
"This is lovely. You sure know how to draw a bath, Dickie." Taron slid across the tub and settled between Richard's knees, wanting to be as close to him as possible. When Richard's arms slid around his waist and his palms planted firmly on his arse cheeks, he felt more at home than he had in weeks.

  
"I've missed ye," Richard stated in his thick, hypnotizing accent. "Haven't been able to stop thinking about ye."

  
Taron climbed over Richard's thighs and straddled his lap, getting comfortable before dipping his head down to capture Richard's lips with his own. He didn't want to stop kissing and touching him; he wanted to make up for all the lost hours they'd missed out on the past few weeks. Sensing this, Richard pulled Taron closer, gripping his arse tighter and kissing him hard. Taron moaned, feeling his newfound erection pressing against Richard's. This wasn't what he had intended when he climbed on Richard's lap, but he'd take it without question.

  
"I wanna know," Taron mumbled against their pressed lips, "what you think about when I'm gone."

  
"Well for starters, these lips," Richard replied, kissing him once, pulling on his bottom lip for emphasis. "And the dimples, can't forget those," he followed his statement with a kiss to each cheek. "And I'd be a complete twit if I didn't think about your first class arse." Taron laughed at Richard's words but soon his laughter transformed into a surprised moan when he felt one of Richard's hands slip behind him and between his cheeks, finger pressing into his entrance.

  
"Oh," Taron moaned again, his cock twitching against his stomach.

  
Richard kept Taron in place with his free hand as he eventually added another finger, working him the best that he could at their current angle. Taron leaned forward and attacked Richard's neck with his lips and teeth, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin. He wanted to mark him up, claim his territory so everyone knew that he belonged to him.

  
"Naughty, naughty, T," Richard scolded him but tilted his neck, his body language showing that he was in favor of the treatment. "Tryin' ta give me a hickey, aren't ye?"

  
Taron shrugged innocently as he used his left hand to curl into the dark hairs on Richard's chest, tugging gently. "They can cover it with makeup," he replied innocently, his hips rocking back into Richard's hand and forward against his erection like it was the most natural movement on Earth.

  
"Mm," Richard moaned. "Are ye gonna let me fuck ye here in the bath, Taron?"

  
Taron was virtually vibrating at Richard's words and the way his name oozed sensually from his lips. In lieu of an answer he reached for Richard's hands, placing them strategically on his hips to keep him from slipping against the porcelain tub. He slowly raised his body and took his time to ease onto Richard's throbbing cock, reveling in the sensation of the warm water surrounding them and how much easier it had made for Richard to bury inside him.

  
For a moment Taron saw stars, so blissfully overwhelmed with the way Richard filled him up entirely. Once his vision returned to normal he began to rock his hips tentatively, gradually increasing his speed as to not slosh bubbly water onto the floor. Richard was growling and biting at his jaw, then his clavicle, then finally the ball of his shoulder. It was rough and slightly painful, yet somehow still so full of love.

  
Taron felt the sting of Richard's fingernails in the thick flesh where his hips and arse met. "Richard, fuck, you don't know how badly I've needed this, baby..." he was panting heavily, his words coming out in hot and breathy gusts. Richard was holding him tight against his chest, one of his hands leaving Taron's hip to travel up the center of his back, his fingernails leaving ragged pink lines in their trail, hard enough to leave a lasting mark long after their tryst had ended.

  
"Me too. Nothing feels as good as being inside ye," Richard purred before allowing his lips to suction at Taron's Adams apple. Taron moaned loudly and finally reached for his neglected cock, squeezing a tight fist around it. His position on Richard's lap was ideal, grazing Taron's prostate with each downwards push.

  
It was nothing like Taron had ever felt before. He cried out at the sensation, pleasure and delight surging through his veins at hyper speed. "Oh my-Oh my God, fuck, God," he babbled pathetically, his mental capacity severely diminished by the sheer overtaking of his physicality.

  
"It's okay, baby," Richard cooed, the tone of his voice giving away exactly how much he was turned on by Taron. "Keep going. Wanna feel ye come on my cock."

  
"Richard, god damnit." Taron lost it just a moment later, coming harder than he'd ever had in his life. He mustered enough of energy to continue moving his hips, albeit with a bit of Richard's help, but a minute later Richard was following suit, unloading inside Taron.

  
They sat collapsed against one another, panting and stroking each other's hair, the aftershocks of Taron's orgasm causing his body to shake against Richard's. It was so mind blowing that Taron felt like he could actually cry, but it held it all in as best as he could.

  
Richard kicked the plug so that the tub began to drain, and they both slowly climbed out and began drying off. "I love ye."

  
"I love you too," Taron replied, putting on his thick, warm robe. His legs felt like jello, in the best way possible.

  
Richard looked at Taron inquisitively. "Ye alright?"

  
Taron's eyes met Richard's and his eyebrows knitted together on his forehead. "I am. I just. I'm blown away by that," he nodded towards the bathtub. "I've never felt so alive, Dickie. I've never felt so-"

  
"I know." Richard was smiling as he pulled Taron closer by his robe. "It was fabulous," he agreed. "There's nothing like being so deep inside ye."

  
Taron shivered as Richard kissed his neck, every nerve in his body still incredibly sensitive. "All jokes aside, the bath was such a lovely surprise. Cheers, darling."

"I'd do anything for ye," he replied lovingly, lacing their fingers together. As they walked into their bedroom and settled under the covers, it occurred to Taron how silly he had been the past couple of days. There was no way Richard would ever cheat on him, not with what they just shared together. Their love was something that not even a fairy tale could aspire to.

  
\---

  
The sound of Taron's mobile was loud on the nightstand next to him, blasting him right out of a deep sleep. His heart jumped and his body jolted under the covers, but he was bound by Richard's arms wrapped around his midsection, spooning against his back. Sighing heavily at the fact that he was now completely awake, he rubbed his eyes and reached for his mobile and turned it to silent. He wanted to ensure that the notification wasn't the result of an emergency and much to Taron's relief, it was only a text from Jamie.

  
**Hey lad, hadn't heard from you and I wanted to see if you were alright. I saw that the New York Times interviewed Richard about the photos. Hope everything is okay with you two. **

  
Taron squinted at his phone screen, reading Jamie's text over and over again. If Richard was interviewed about those bloody pictures, why didn't he share that with him? Once again, Taron found himself opening his browser and Googling _Richard Madden and Brandon Flynn_.

  
**Richard Madden Responds to Rumors That He's Dating Brandon Flynn.**

  
The link to the article popped up immediately and Taron clicked on it, his fingers shaky with trepidation. He looked over his shoulder to ensure that Richard was still fast asleep before he read the article.

  
**"I like to keep my personal life personal," Richard told us. "I don't talk about my relationships."**

  
Taron kept trying to scroll further until he realized that it was the end of a very short, very brief article. He put his mobile back onto the nightstand and slithered out of Richard's arms, careful not to wake him. His stomach was flip-flopping in his abdomen, making him feel slightly queasy just as he had felt a few mornings prior. Why hadn't Richard denied the rumors? Why was there so much secrecy all of a sudden?

  
After washing his face and brushing his teeth, Taron made his way out to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He rummaged through the larder but decided what he was feeling wasn't hunger, it was hurt.

  
With a warm cup of coffee in hand, Taron slipped into his Nikes and headed out the back door to take a morning walk along the beach. He recalled doing this same exact thing back in January when he'd first realized his feelings for Richard. It had given him the clarity he needed then, and he hoped it would do the same now.

  
After about half an hour of soul searching, Taron began walking back towards his condo. He saw Richard in the distance walking towards him looking as gorgeous as ever with the way the wind was blowing his curls against his forehead. Richard looked at him with concerned eyes and reached for Taron, touching his arm once they were close enough to do so.

  
"Ye scared me," he admitted. "I didn't know where ye went. Ye left yer mobile in the room..."

  
Taron nodded and shrugged his shoulders limply. "I needed some time to think, and as you know this is where I do exactly that."

  
"What's wrong, Taron?"

  
Taron usually loved the way Richard said his name, except in a moment like this where he was feeling hurt and confused. "I saw that the _award winning_ New York Times interviewed you about those pap photos. You know, the dozens of them that surfaced over the past few weeks?" He knew that he was sounding like a huge arsehole, but he couldn't help it - his feelings had taken over the driver's seat.

  
"Yeah, and?" Again, Richard didn't seem to understand why Taron was peeved, which in turn made him even more upset.

  
"You didn't even deny it, Dickie. They gave you an out from this whole mess, and you didn't take it." He looked at Richard incredulously.

  
"Taron, it's not like I shouted out to the world that I'm dating the bloke. Please tell me what is it that yer on about?"

  
Taron sighed in the hopes that it would expend some of the anger that he was feeling towards Richard. "Can you not see that this all comes off a little suspicious? A little hurtful, maybe? _Honestly_?"

  
Richard was silent for a few beats, and Taron wished that he wasn't wearing sunnies so that he could read his eyes. "Can ye not see that I'm just trying to have a life outside of the media and the paps? They follow me everywhere, T. They don't do that to ye. I just want to have a normal life."

  
It wasn't the response Taron was hoping for. He frowned and simply nodded at Richard before he started walking back towards the condo. Richard was calling after him but he kept going, not looking back. He was afraid that if he did, he'd break down.

  
Once inside he toed off his shoes and put his coffee cup in the sink before settling onto the couch. He knew that there was no way to avoid Richard and this conversation he'd started. Just like he'd predicted, Richard was standing in front of him just a few minutes later, hands on his hips.

  
"Taron."

  
"What, Dickie?"

  
"I don't want ye to be mad at me, but I also don't think that I have anything to apologize for here."

  
"Well at least you're being honest," Taron scoffed. "This whole situation hurts me, Dickie. I love you. I want to be free with you. In a real relationship with you where we don't have to hide and pretend we're just overly affectionate mates."

  
"I love ye too, ye know that. Ye know that there's nothing going on with me and Brandon, right?" When Taron didn't answer immediately, Richard got on his knees in front of him.

"Right," he confirmed. "I know you're not cheating on me. I believe you, Richard."

  
"So then what is really going on here?"

  
"You're out on the street with him, doing stupid human things like shopping and walking his ugly little dog," Taron rolled his eyes. "All the while looking so _friendly_. Then you don't even deny that he's your boyfriend when the bloody New York Times confronts you. It hurts me, Richard, because I want to be the one out with you doing stupid human things and I don't want to hide our relationship from the world. But it seems like _you_ do."

  
The minute Taron finished his sentence he had to tear his eyes away from Richard. He couldn't look at him, not with the way his blue eyes pierced right through him. Richard was quiet, save for a small gasp that left his lips when Taron insinuated that he wanted to hide their relationship. Much to Taron's chagrin, Richard wasn't denying the claim. It seemed like _not denying things_ was his new M.O.

  
After a lengthy period of silence, Taron started to get frustrated with Richard. "Jesus Richard," he huffed. "Are you going to say nothing at all? Are you bloody kidding me?" It was then he noticed how watery his eyes were, and how deeply he was frowning.

  
That didn't matter though. Not right now, not to Taron.

"I'm sorry, Taron," Richard whispered, his gaze falling to the floor beneath him. "It is not my intent to make ye feel so unwanted."

  
"Why do I sense a 'but' here, Dickie?"

  
Richard lifted his head and their eyes met, and it felt like they were both searching for something in each other that they couldn't find. "But I'm just not ready to be open with my lifestyle."

  
Taron shook his head and got to his feet, forcing Richard to sit back on his knees. "I'm not asking for you to ring the New York Times and tell them that you're dating me. I'm just asking you to be more sensitive to my feelings. To understand that sometimes things you do hurt me. You're not really acknowledging that part." Richard finally got to his feet and reached for Taron, pulling him into a hug. Taron felt his heart twinge, so desperately wanting Richard to say more, but the words just weren't coming, and he felt defeated. "I think I'm going to fly back home for a bit," Taron suggested, his voice cracking with sadness. "It'll be good for us to clear our minds."

  
"Taron, ye can't be serious, ye just got here-"

  
"I am very serious, Richard. I can always fly back when the time is right. But being here together isn't going to help us think objectively about what we want. Plus, if I'm not with you, I want to be at home with my sisters, yunno?"

  
Richard nodded, seeming to understand Taron's reasoning. "I really don't want ye to go, baby, but if ye feel it's necessary-"

  
"It is. It is necessary," Taron cut him off, knowing that the longer he stayed in the house with Richard, the harder it would be for him to leave. "I'll ring you when I land, alright? But I've got to pack and head to the airport now or else I'll miss the flight."

  
"Are you sure ye don't want me to leave? This is yer place, I can go." Richard sighed heavily when Taron shook his head. The thoughts flooding Taron's mind weren't exactly nice, they were more sarcastic and snarky, so he figured it best to stay quiet.

  
Richard followed Taron into the bedroom and watched as he changed into a pair of clean clothes and packed his suitcase. Taron could feel eyes on him the entire time but he never turned back to look at Richard fully. He didn't want to leave but he needed to get some space between himself and Richard, hoping that the time apart would give them time to think about what was important to them.

  
Before Taron left, he kissed Richard softly on the lips and ran his fingers through the soft ringlets of his hair one last time. The look on Richard's face - so lost and confused - threatened to pull at the tiny thread holding Taron together, so he left in a hurry, hustling his luggage towards the cab he'd called, never once looking back.

  
\---

  
Taron spent the next few days in agony. Other than a few texts here and there, he and Richard had barely spoken. In fact, Richard hadn't responded to any of the texts he'd sent today, and he was starting to get worried that he'd decided to break up with him. Had he made a huge mistake leaving L.A? Truthfully, he never really wanted to leave and the hopeless romantic inside him had hoped that Richard would say what he needed to hear and then beg him to stay.

  
He wanted Richard to tell him that it was okay. That they could hold hands in public and kiss and not give a damn if someone was snapping their pictures. He wanted Richard to deny seeing anyone else but him. He wanted - needed - Richard to love him enough to not hide him from the world. Was he really asking too much?

  
It was ten o'clock at night when Taron changed into his pajamas and settled into the couch for a late night flick. With the rest of his family already upstairs and in bed, he decided to stay up just in case Richard called him. He ordered himself take away from a local pub and anxiously waited for it to be delivered, needing comfort food now more than ever. As he browsed through Netflix, he quickly skimmed past Bodyguard and immediately felt a jolt of pain in his heart.

  
When the doorbell rang, Taron was thankful for the distraction and the promise of delicious food. He ran to the door quickly, not wanting another ring of the bell to wake his family. He swung the door open and suddenly felt his mouth go dry at the sight before him.

  
It was Richard, looking as beautiful as ever with his hair perfectly styled, wearing tight black jeans and a tee shirt.

  
"I hope ye don't mind that I'm here," Richard said, breaking their silence.

  
Taron shook his head and took a step back, inviting Richard inside. "No, not at all. C'mon in." When he closed the door behind them he stayed lingering in the foyer, momentarily forgetting how to walk. He was too distracted by the fact that Richard was magically standing in front of him. "Why are you here, Richard?"

  
"I had to see ye. I need to talk to ye, and I didn't want to do it over the phone, yanno?"

  
"Yes. Right." Taron nodded, finally regaining function of his feet so that he could walk over to Richard. "What is it that you wanted to say?"

  
Richard licked his lips and inhaled, and before Taron knew it, Richard was taking both of his hands and bringing them to his chest. "I love ye, and I'm sorry. I do realize that I was being a selfish tit. I was thinking about my feelings and not how my actions would make ye feel."

  
Taron's feet were rooted firmly in the ground but his knees wobbled, threatening to snap underneath him. He felt nervous in the best of ways, a feeling akin to stepping onto a stage in front of hundreds of observers. "I love you too, Dickie. More than I've ever loved anyone or anything," he confirmed.

  
"I want to make this up to ye. I will do anything, Taron. Ye are the best part of my life and I can't lose ye."

  
Taron felt himself smile for the first time in days, and it was a hard smile, the kind that made his dimples feel like craters in his cheeks. "I just want to be able to hold your hand in public. Maybe steal a snog every once in a while," he said with a chuckle. "I don't need a proposal, and I don't need you to call the New York Times and tell them that we're dating. I just want to us to have a normal, healthy relationship where we do whatever we want and don't care about the opinions of others."

  
"I agree, we do deserve normalcy." Richard confirmed with a nod. "I wish it hadn't taken me so long to realize that, but I do now, and I hope ye'll forgive me."

  
"I forgive you," Taron sniffled when Richard brought both hands to his mouth and kissed his palms. "I'm sorry for leaving the other day. I know it was childish of me, but-"

"It wasn't, T, it wasn't at all. It was the right call. Being without ye, in yer condo no less, made me realize how much for a fool I was being. I'm gonna give ye all those things ye want and _more_, baby."

  
Taron smiled and looped his arms around Richard's shoulders, deciding to offer his reply non-verbally, kissing him instead. Richard's arms circled his waist tightly like an anchor. They kissed slow and with passion, their tongues dancing in perfect harmony with one another. Taron wanted to cry happy tears but he held them in, instead channeling his emotions into his kiss with Richard.

  
He pulled away reluctantly, his forehead pressing against Richard's as he tried to catch his breath. "I can't believe you flew all the way here to apologize to me."

  
"I would follow ye anywhere, baby. Yer the one."

  
Taron smiled and dipped his head to nuzzle the crook of Richard's neck, his arms looping around him in a tight embrace. He felt Richard's nose nestle his hair and breathe him in, and he shivered. They stood there in the middle of the living room holding each other for what seemed like an eternity, their hearts beating as one. Happiness amplified inside of Taron, and he couldn't stop himself from singing to Richard, softly against his ear.

  
_All I ever needed was the one_  
_Like freedom fields where wild horses run_  
_When stars collide like you and I_  
_No shadows block the sun_  
_You're all I've ever needed_  
_Baby you're the one_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who reads, comments, and leaves Kudos. It truly inspires me to continue writing. :)
> 
> The song Taron sings in this fic is Elton John's [Baby You're The One](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=85B_REWeNcM)


End file.
